


Obscene Oh-Oh-October

by diemarysues



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Breasts, Clothed Sex, Collars, Desk Sex, Double Penetration, F/F, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Frottage, Hair-pulling, Kneeling, Laughter, Lazy Sex, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Making Love, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Necks, Oral Sex, Orgy, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overstimulation, Phone Sex, Post-Coital, Public Sex, Restraints, Rimming, Rings, Rough Sex, Size Difference, Spanking, Spitroasting, Strangers, Strap-Ons, Words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-19 12:19:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 15,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2388002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemarysues/pseuds/diemarysues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>31 smutty ficlets for every day of October, 500 words long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Double Penetration - Bilbo/Dwalin/Thorin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alkjira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alkjira/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Smutty September Stories](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2237940) by [alkjira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alkjira/pseuds/alkjira). 



> Am I copying alkjira? Certainly not. I have one extra day, so there.
> 
> *snickers* At the very least I'm continuing her lovely work since she's taking a break for this month, and she's very kindly helped with half the title xD  
> Anyhow I wanted something regular to do instead of taking ages between WIPs.
> 
> (...which just means I'm likely going to take extra ages between WIPs)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Threesome F/M/M, Rule 63'd Thorin

“Start moving,” Thorin demanded, “I am not made of obsidian.”

 

Bilbo wondered if obsidian shared the same properties of glass. Dwarves had many sayings that were different to Hobbit ones, some so different that he had to ask for their meanings. Sayings like ‘it wasn’t any quartz of someone’s geode’ or ‘not the sharpest axe in the armoury’.

 

Then Thorin clenched around him and his thoughts scattered.

 

Dwalin’s hands were tight on Thorin’s wide hips. “Should’ve shoved my cock in your mouth,” he said, the words low and growling.

 

“Hah.” The King snorted, curving her back in such a way to make Dwalin curse. Bilbo was much more interested in the way this put her breasts in tantalising reach. “Don’t even pretend you don’t prefer this.”

 

“I’m certainly not complaining,” Bilbo said, before his Dwarves could bicker further. He rather wanted to move, wanted to fuck Thorin and have her slick all over him, and all while Dwalin fucked her arse at the same time. He raised his hands, pushing aside the temptation of Thorin’s chest to cup her bearded jaw. “You feel lovely. You are lovely.”

 

Her dark hair was pulled over one shoulder, falling onto the pillow beside Bilbo’s head. “I’ll feel lovelier if you fuck me,” she said – ordering rather than begging – and because she was cunning and clever, she held his gaze with pale eyes and whispered, “ _Please_ ,” before she bit down on her lower lip.

 

Bilbo’s hips jerked of their own volition at the sight, and then he kept at it, forcing breathy sounds past Thorin’s teeth.

 

He knew when Dwalin started moving not because he could see the other Dwarf driving his hips forward – Bilbo had a better view to occupy him after all – but because he could hear soft slap of hips-against-arse and the whining edge to Thorin’s breathing, could feel her tense around his cock, could see the way she was fighting to keep her volume down. Could see the way her breasts swayed gently.

 

Dwalin beat him to the punch, lifting one large hand and greedily grasping Thorin’s breast, rolling it and roughly brushing her nipple with his middle finger. Bilbo swallowed thickly, gently echoing Dwalin’s actions and wishing he was in a better position to put his mouth there instead.

 

“Harder,” Thorin panted. Her eyes were shut, a pity that was offset by her knees slipping further apart and spreading her gloriously. “Now, _now_ , harder – ah!”

 

T’wasn’t their first time doing this; Dwalin and Bilbo had already established their rhythm, rocking in and out so one of them filled Thorin as the other pulled back. Bilbo knew that Dwalin had spread Thorin’s arsecheeks apart to carefully watch her open up to their cocks – he knew and envied Dwalin. The view was always magnificent.

 

It was Bilbo’s turn to moan when Thorin sucked on two fingers and moved them between her legs. He and Dwalin groaned again when she shuddered and tightened moments later – hopefully for the first time that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like lady Thorin.


	2. Rimming - Bofur/Ori

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Pre-Erebor
> 
> Phew, just made it. For bubbysub, who suggested the pairing.

Bofur stepped out of the tub, dripping.

 

The day had been long, too long. It wasn’t very comforting to return to an empty room but he shouldn’t have expected otherwise. There hadn’t been obligations or promises – though Bofur still wished that he’d not have to go to bed alone. Still, the hot water stripped away some of his disquiet, not to mention all the grime and dust from the coal mine.

 

He found a towel and started rubbing his loose hair, stepping into his bedroom. He’d need food, to take some to his cousin, but there were some hours yet. Some hours and a full jar of oil, and his mind full of memories and imagination –

 

Ori cleared his throat.

 

Bofur froze, towel over his head and hands in sopping hair. Under the gaze of those frighteningly clever eyes, he could feel the pathways of every drop of water that slid down his bare body. At a total loss of what to do, he fell back on instinct and grinned.

 

“Will you get on the bed?”

 

From Ori, this was an invitation rather than order, and Bofur went without complaint, dropping the towel without ceremony. “I didn’t think you’d come back.”

 

The younger Dwarf put aside his bag. “I didn’t think I would either. But I like you.” He pulled off his gloves – and that shouldn’t have been as seductive as it was. It made Bofur’s mouth dry, though not as much as Ori’s next words: “And I’d like you on your hands and knees. Please.”

 

Bofur couldn’t help but shiver and hurried to do as bid. Ori was perhaps young and endearingly polite, but he was _strong_ and he was _beautiful_. He wore ribbons twisted into his copper hair and wore knitted gloves that hid skilled fingers – and, as Bofur had learned on that one night, young did not equate inexperience.

 

“Oil’s in the first drawer,” he said.

 

“Mmm.” He felt Ori climb onto the bed instead of going for the oil. Just what did he have planned? “Put your head down on the bed.”

 

Bofur was just about to do that when a slim palm pressed insistently between his shoulder blades, warm against his cool skin. He went down without a fight, flushing at the picture he must have presented, arse high in the air, put on display even more when Ori nudged his knees further apart.

 

The hand that had pushed him down now retreated, tracing the ridges of Bofur’s spine and then deviating gently, Ori’s other hand rising so he could grasp Bofur’s arse and spread his cheeks apart. Bofur shivered again, and then once more when Ori gently exhaled over his hole. He suddenly knew what Ori meant to do.

 

First kisses, chaste and then open mouthed, followed by a warm tongue that alternatively flicked and licked. Cock heavy between his legs, Bofur groaned when Ori started fucking him properly with his tongue. He reached out and bit down on a corner of his pillow.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm yes experienced Ori. I'm sure he's come across many sex manuals while cataloguing...


	3. Collar, Fili/Tauriel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Pegging, Fili as King
> 
> 3 minutes to spare!

The clothes of Dwarves – especially the ceremonial garb of a King – are heavy and layered, immensely useful for Fíli and his proclivity for hiding knives about his person. But they also serve the purpose of hiding the gold and leather band he always wears.

 

Fíli had supplied the gold – an alloy, really, to keep it as supple as the dark leather Tauriel had in turn supplied. Brought together they form a collar; it sits snugly around his throat, locked by a Dwarvish mechanism, and with a single gold loop that usually sits in the hollow between his collarbones.

 

Now Tauriel has two fingers in this loop, tugging so it is now at the back of Fíli’s neck, tugging and leaving the Dwarfking to gasp in air alongside his gasps of pleasure. She stands by the edge of the bed, still, and Fíli is on his hands and knees, desperately pushing back onto the wooden cock she wears.

 

She’d used to put it in the bottom of her pack whenever she was part of any envoys from Greenwood to Erebor; ‘used to’ because she now leaves it in Fíli’s quarters. Since it has become very unlikely that he can visit her it is easier this way. Kings are not as free as Captains, but whatever happens behind the door of his quarters is only theirs to know.

 

He fucks himself on her with the barest semblance of control, and Tauriel wonders if it has been that long since they’d last seen each other. Her slender fingers trail from the small of his back to gently grasp his hip and she feels the tautness in his strong muscles.

 

“Have you missed me?” When he doesn’t answer straight away, she roughly jerks the loop and the collar with it. “Surely you can still speak.”

 

Fíli manages to look over his shoulder, grinning. “Isn’t that a poor indicator of your skills? If I can still speak?”

 

Tauriel takes this as a prompt to thrust her hips forward in one sharp movement. Pale eyelashes flutter and Fíli bites his lower lip, unconsciously stilling. Tauriel uses her grip on his hip and his collar to pull him back as she thrusts again, once, twice, thrice. He moans when she stops and she asks again, “Have you missed me?”

 

“Yes,” he says, and she rewards him with another roll of her hips. “Yes!”

 

“I want you to bruise.” Another finger slips into the loop. “I want you to swallow and think of how a king of Dwarves let himself be taken by an Elf.” She releases his hip and reaches for his cock; hard and hot and gloriously slick. Fíli cries out and almost buckles but for his collar and her grip on it.

 

She picks up her pace, forcing Fíli to rock with the force of her hips, his cock sliding in the loose hold of her fist. “Then I want you to lie on your back while I sit on your face.”

 

His thighs tremble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this is error free... And hey, I like this pairing more than I expected.


	4. Making Love, Dis/Nori

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: None

As she stepped out of the bath after soaking in water just this side of boiling, Dís was grateful for the luxuries afforded to royalty – and grateful that Erebor was restored enough that there _were_ luxuries. Elves continued to be tiring to deal with, even with Bilbo’s presence. She was happy to be done with them for the night and looked forward to collapsing into her bed.

 

She stopped. The reliefs on the wall caught the flickering light of (far too many) candles that were dotted throughout the room. She knew for a fact that none had been set out when she’d first entered her quarters this night.

 

“Nori,” she sighed.

 

“Good evening, Princess.” The spymaster kissed her cheek, settling his hands on her strong hips. “I hear the day’s been busy.”

 

“Aye.” Since Nori wore only trousers and an undershirt Dís knew that the door was locked and her quarters secure; half-turning to face him, she saw his hair was in one long braid, free of weapons. “Very busy.”

 

“We can talk,” he said, fingers tightening briefly. “After.”

 

“After,” she agreed.

 

 

Dís had been stripped of the shift she’d been wearing, already soft and pliant and wet after Nori had worked her with his clever tongue and talented fingers. She helped him tug off his shirt, throwing it aside eagerly as he straddled her, rising onto her elbows for a kiss. The candlelight made his hair shine like copper.

 

He ducked his head and met her lips sweetly, astonishingly chaste despite his clear arousal (that was pressed against her belly). Murmured words were breathed into the space between their mouths as he kissed her again and again, lingering, big hands slipping from her jaw to her shoulders, caressing down her arms and leaving gooseflesh in their wake. Dís reached down to finish undoing the laces of his trousers and Nori groaned softly into her mouth.

 

They ended up on their sides, and Dís arched when Nori’s cock nudged into her. She had a hand behind her knee, holding up her leg to spread herself and help him. It was difficult in this position to find the purchase to push down and take him in faster, but that wasn’t necessary. Both knew there was no urgency. No need to rush when they had the whole night to themselves.

 

His nails scratched through Dís’ beard and then he was guiding her face towards his. She kissed him deeply, breath hitching as his hand dropped to stroke and cup her breast. All the while he moved inside her, hips maddeningly slow, rocking back and forth, back and forth. She could only hear the slick sounds of their joining, could only hear their soft sighs and gasps and moans that steadily grew in volume as Nori thrust in more deeply.

 

He kissed her one last time before hiding his head in her neck. His fingers danced down her belly, dragging through the damp curls between her legs, and then lower.

 

“ _Nori_ ,” she sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's 'Throat/Neck'. Any pairings you want to see?


	5. Neck/Throat, Bofur/Fili/Lindir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Rule 63 - fem!Fili, fem!Bofur, Genderqueer Character (Lindir), Gender Neutral Pronouns
> 
>  
> 
> (the tag 'necks' is a bit odd but I couldn't find anything more relevant than that so...)

It was probably no surprise that Bofur and Fíli held their alcohol better than Lindir did.

 

Both had more experience with drinking, for one, and were anyway built more solidly than Lindir (if such a thing did affect ones ability to imbibe). Fíli was shorter and had hips wider than Bofur’s but both women were stocky and strong. Not so with Lindir.

 

They were long and lanky, had been for years and years, content not to stray far from the library, too tall and too awkward and strange besides. Fíli and Bofur hadn’t cared. Bofur had become friends with them first – she was so open and cheerful and sweet, frequenting the Music section and never giving up through Lindir’s stilted attempts at conversation. Then Fíli had come along, charming Lindir as she returned books and delighting in every smile and blush she managed to coax out of them.

 

They had expected the two of them to get together – and had appropriately built their defences to be able to act happy when the announcement of the relationship came about. But they’d never thought to be included, had never thought that they’d be in a happy, loving relationship with two women as amazing as Fíli and Bofur.

 

But to return to the point of holding alcohol, Lindir rather thought that their slight frame led to being affected more quickly than their girlfriends – and led to certain secrets being brought to light.

 

“Oh, is that so?” Fíli all but purred as she sidled closer to Lindir; she was only wearing a pair of pants with tiny bows along the top, and this was quite distracting indeed. “You should’ve told us sooner.”

 

Their cheeks burned. “I shouldn’t – shouldn’t’ve said anything.”

 

Bofur bumped their shoulders. “Silly. You know we’ll listen to everything you have to say.” She kissed Lindir’s cheek and pulled back with a teasing expression. “Especially if it’s to do with your little confession.”

 

Lindir’s reply was stolen when Bofur kissed them again, this time on the side of their neck. Fíli plucked the glass from their hands before they dropped it, putting it on the bedside table before following Bofur’s example. Bofur’s lips were softer than hers, but Fíli made up for it by flicking her tongue out to taste. Blush intensified, Lindir felt themselves going limp as desire curled in their belly, clutching at their lovers and sinking against the pillows.

 

Between the two women, Lindir found their clothes being removed quickly, and watched as Fíli did the same for Bofur, buttons being forced open as slow kisses were traded. Their mouth went dry at the sight of Bofur rubbing Fíli through her pants, at the moans Bofur breathed out when Fíli roughly grabbed at her arse.

 

They were _so_ lucky, even luckier when sandwiched between Bofur and Fíli. Each worried bites on either side of Lindir’s neck. They gasped and shook, utterly at the mercy of their lovers, each with a hand down Lindir’s pants, fingers stroking and stroking until –

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's 'Orgy'!


	6. Orgy, the Company/Each Other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Voyeurism, Group Sex

Near death experiences, survival of said experiences, and celebratory ale quaffing are either a bad combination or a very excellent one. With the addition of three Mannish beds pushed together, general consensus is on ‘very excellent’.

 

The Company has formed a rough circle, some propped up against the head- or foot-boards, some perched on the edge. All are completely bare and are currently watching very raptly as Dori fucks himself on Bombur. It is an extremely appealing picture; both are considered the height of Dwarven beauty. Bombur’s ample cheeks are ruddy and Dori’s strong thighs flex and relax.

 

Some fist themselves – Glóin, for one, who watches and thinks of his wife, silver chain and locket glinting in the candlelight. Dwalin is another; his legs are spread wide, rolling his stones with the fingers of one hand while stroking himself with the other. And as for the rest…

 

Nori holds a squirming Fíli in his lap as he works Fíli’s prick, whispering filthily into the Prince’s ear. Bofur has Balin’s cock stuffed in his mouth, both positioned so they can both still watch the two in the centre. Kíli and Ori have spurted already, messy, but Ori is stiffening nicely against Kíli’s thigh as they kiss.

 

There is some disappointment when Dori climbs off, but a cheer (slightly muffled in Bofur’s case) rises when he moves onto hands and knees to better take Bombur’s fat cock. His braids are loose, and continue to loosen as Bombur thrusts into him, and that is as provocative an image as the way his seed rubs off onto the sheets.

 

Óin moves to join them. The oil jar is on the mattress well within reach, but first he spreads Bombur’s arsecheeks and presses his mouth there. Bombur moans, growing in volume as he’s opened up, thrusting into Dori’s tight heat and then thrusting back on Óin’s tongue.

 

Balin looks satisfied as he works on catching his breath; Bofur has barely swallowed before he’s encouraged to start on Dwalin. Balin keeps his fingers in Bofur’s braids, guiding him up and down his brother’s cock.

 

It should be noted that Bilbo – surprisingly – is involved with these proceedings. They all knew him to be fussy and proper about the queerest of things, but in this he seems to have no shame. He sits by Bifur, quite content to watch – he peeks into the toymaker’s lap, and then lets his gaze roam over each Dwarf in turn; it must be like a feast to him and it is known how Hobbits love feasts.

 

Bilbo happily kisses Bifur when careful fingers curl over his jaw; he doesn’t seem put out when Bifur then goes to clean the mess on Dori’s belly. His hazel eyes instead meet Thorin’s pale ones, and he smirks.

 

The King quirks an eyebrow in reply and soon finds a soft Hobbit in his arms, with two small hands around his cock. It doesn’t take very long for him to learn how clever-fingered their burglar really is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~ahhh I couldn't help but put in semi bagginshield at the end I'm sorry I'm trash~~
> 
>  
> 
> Phew. Got them all in. (hehe) Hopefully not too many errors.
> 
> Tomorrow: Words. I've already got a pairing planned, but the day after is Oral Sex so suggestions/requests welcome, if you have 'em.


	7. Words, Bilbo/Balin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Letter Writing
> 
> Had fun with this one! And this's for Thady, who wanted Bilbo/Balin.

_\- and that is the end of the official updates. The rest of my letter is personal. I miss you._

_Riding on a pony for so long has left me with an abundance free time; the surrounds hold no interest to me whatsoever. I have thought of nothing but your hands for weeks. Your hands, your fingers that are bare of ornamentation, your skin that is calloused from writing and swordwork, your wrists that peek out so coquettishly from the hem of your sleeves. Your hands that hold me down, that hold me up, that touch me – that touch me._

_I am haunted by the ghost of your fingers; it seems only moments ago that we embraced, and you stroked through my hair as your other hand settled on my waist. It seems only days ago that we lay together, and you stroked my cock as your other hand opened me up. I try to recreate this when I have the privacy and the oil, and though I must work to be quiet, I am not quite as skilled as you. (Needs must, but I can only look forward to returning to you.)_

_And, oh! You are very skilled indeed. Your mouth – you are a storyteller unlike all others; when you take me you cannot speak, but the sounds of your lips and tongue are more than enough to pin me to the bed. I am the one who speaks in your stead. I am the one who cries out. Still you will work me patiently as I am spread out for your pleasure – and my pleasure, of course._

_Then, when I am limp with this same pleasure, I wish for you to take me properly. You are always more patient than I – you insist on one finger, then two, then three – sometimes four if you find me too impertinent. I will beg and curse, pushing down on your fingers so you might brush against_ that _part of me. But best of all is when you hold my hips – either when I am on my back or on my knees or in your lap – and ease all the way in. I do not care what pace you set, so long as your perfect, perfect cock is inside of me. So long as your seed spills inside of me._

_If my writing seems a tad unsteady it is because I could not resist the temptation of touching myself again – my imagination does get the better of me. Though I am not wearing clothes, I have made sure not to dirty this parchment or envelope, so do not worry._

_I can only hope that this letter will reach you soon – and I hope even more that I will follow after. I ache for you, I_ ache _, and once I have returned to our bed I want you to_ fuck _me. I want to remember nothing but your hands, your mouth, your cock. I want to remember nothing but you._

_All my heart,_

_Bilbo_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still taking suggestions for tomorrow: Oral Sex.


	8. Oral Sex, Bifur/Kili

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Rule 63'd Bifur, Rule 63'd Kili
> 
> Sorry I didn't get this out yesterday, folks. It was a full day. I think I'll only be able to catch up this weekend =(
> 
> This one's for elenorasweet.

It came as no surprise that Kíli was loud where Bifur was quiet, filling Bifur’s silences with exclamation tipped colour and energy. Not to say that Bifur couldn’t be loud when she wanted to, but she preferred to let her actions speak for her. Case in point was dinner earlier: delicious takeout from her cousin’s restaurant, complemented with the beer Kíli loved, chocolate brownies, and finally, a small box.

 

Kíli had really enjoyed herself… and was currently enjoying herself as she worked. “Going to make you come all night,” she’d promised, and she’d have continued being mouthy (as usual) if her mouth hadn’t been occupied.

 

Bifur groaned softly.

 

Kíli’s dark hair was pulled into a long braid, but she still had to jerk her head to flick the fringe out of her face. It was an unfairly attractive action and she knew it, shooting a smirk at Bifur before returning to her work. She had stroked Bifur’s thighs earlier as they’d kissed and now that she’d moved down Bifur’s body she was focusing her efforts into sucking a bite on silky, dark skin.

 

The blunt pressure of teeth and the soothing softness of lips and tongue affected Bifur as much as the pleased expression on Kíli’s face. Kíli’s position between her legs was as much for Bifur’s pleasure as it was for her own, and Bifur was all too happy to sit back against the pillow and watch. And feel, of course.

 

She was aching for Kíli already; to have that devious mouth so close was sweet torture. There was heat high in her cheeks and her breaths was just a shade quicker than normal – and she was wet, so ready for Kíli’s attention… but not impatient. Bifur knew that Kíli wouldn’t tease _too_ long.

 

True enough, with one last graze of teeth Kíli shifted, properly positioning herself. Bifur moaned at the hot breaths, moaned again when Kíli’s eyes fluttered closed as she inhaled deeply. Her own gaze was trained on Kíli, taking in her soft smile before she inched forwards and mouthed kisses to Bifur’s outer lips. She was clearly controlling herself, holding Bifur’s legs apart and keeping her pace slow and steady, _almost_ chaste as her tongue swiped and flicked, as she hummed and moaned. It was maddening.

 

Bifur reached down and spread herself – so much for not being impatient – unrepentant in the slightest when Kíli cast her a smug look. She was rewarded, though; Kíli placed a worshipful kiss on her clit before dipping down to tease her tongue into Bifur.

 

She could feel her spine arching slightly, moving her hips to counter Kíli. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears, echoed between her legs – she could only focus on the pleased slick sounds of the other woman’s mouth, the return of teasing pressure against her clit.

 

Kíli started sucking gently and slipped a finger into her with little resistance. Bifur’s free hand shakingly slid down the sheets. Kíli grasped it.

 

Her (new) little sapphire ring glinted brightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry I missed a day. At least you can look forward to tomorrow's spanking.


	9. Spanking, Gimli/Legolas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: None
> 
> I'm a bit meh about 'Legolas Greenleaf' as the character tag =/ Ah well.

To be perfectly honest, Gimli hadn’t thought that he’d truly enjoy it.

 

It’d been an idle threat – stemmed from annoyance at Legolas being insufferable, as he was wont to do – and he’d just snapped it out without thinking. By the wide eyed stare this elicited, he’d clearly shocked Legolas enough to stop him babbling about the superiority of Elves (and thank Mahal for that miracle).

 

But Gimli had noticed the flush at the tips of his pointed ears (exposed by the way his braids were pinned up with flimsy-looking clasps Gimli would need to improve on and add jewels to). He’d noticed the way Legolas’ gaze had darkened.

 

Now he could not see those blue eyes. He was instead treated to Legolas’ back; his Elf was laid across his lap and bare from braids to buckles; all that smooth skin for Gimli to touch, but what concerned him at present was Legolas’ arse. It had been decorated with distinct marks in the shape of Gimli’s large hand but now they blended together into a flush deeper than his pointy ears had been earlier.

 

Gimli stroked his palm over the warm skin and Legolas shivered. He’d bunched the sheets between his slender fingers, face pressed into the bed. Every slap Gimli had delivered was met first with soft groans and then hitched cries, and it was this reaction that caught Gimli more than the act of ‘hurting’ Legolas.

 

He couldn’t help a smile when Legolas shifted, getting his knees in position to push his arse more firmly against Gimli’s hand. It was obvious that he was not ready for their fun to end – if his hard cock digging into Gimli’s thigh wasn’t enough of an indicator. Each slap probably had the added advantage of friction against rough cloth of Dwarvish trousers.

 

An impatient huff of breath brought him out of his thoughts. Legolas had turned his head to the side, glaring at him with one eye. It was hopelessly unintimidating – not that the princeling had ever been intimidating – and Gimli chuckled in the face of it.

 

His Elf did not find it amusing. “If you aren’t going to –”

 

Gimli stole those words, stole Legolas’ very breath with one sharp smack. His hand came down again and again; his pace was irregular, sometimes relentless, sometimes pausing so long that Legolas thought he’d stopped again, varying the strength of his blows to thoroughly keep his lover’s attention. Over the sound of his palm meeting Legolas’ arse was the music of moaning and whimpering and a chorus of ‘ _Gimli, yes, more, harder_ ’. Never once did he call for a halt.

 

Gimli thought of sinking his cock into Legolas and being treated to the beautifully reddened skin of his arse, thought of waking up tomorrow and tracing over the bruises he’d no doubt leave, thought of his Elf standing and walking and sitting and being _painfully_ reminded of what they were now doing.

 

He thought of these things and grinned when Legolas spurted and shook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still behind a day. Sorry dudes, not feeling it tonight. Tomorrow's 'hair pulling', which I do enjoy, so...
> 
> P.S. 'From braids to buckles' = 'from head to toe' =)


	10. Hair-Pulling, Dori/Dwalin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: None.
> 
> idk who asked for Dori/Dwalin, but here it is.

The headboard judders against the wall when Dwalin thrusts.

 

Dori has a stray thought for structural integrity of the wooden bed frame. It abruptly dissipates when Dwalin yanks on his handful. They are both on their knees. Dori’s hands are restrained at the small of his back and he is held up off the bed by virtue of Dwalin’s strength: by virtue of the fingers wound into his hair and pulling tight.

 

The first time he had taken down his hair, Dwalin had stared. Dori knows that he is beautiful and sought after, and he knows that Dwalin is fond of wondering what he’d done to ‘deserve’ Dori. It’s a tiresome way of looking at things. Dori is with Dwalin because they love each other – it really is a very simple concept, and one he tries to make clear as rock crystal. Each effort meets with varying levels of success, but he believes that he is making progress.

 

The first time his hair had been touched by Dwalin, all he’d done was finger-comb it very, very gently. While that was sweet it hadn’t been the hoped for reaction; Dori had been undressed at the time, with a mind to take Dwalin until the other Dwarf could remember nothing but his name.

 

The first time his hair had been pulled by Dwalin, he hummed loudly around the thick cock in his mouth. It was this same cock that prevented Dori from complaining when Dwalin retracted his fingers almost immediately; and then he’d been distracted what with having his mouth fucked that he’d not articulated exactly why Dwalin should’ve continued pulling his hair.

 

Still, Dori is very single-minded, and he’s made sure to explain in no uncertain terms what he wants – it’s good that those wants are echoed by Dwalin. It’d meant very little convincing.

 

So now he concentrates on the hot slide of Dwalin’s cock in and out of him. He is held fast, and when Dwalin thrusts forward he also pulls Dori back by his hair. Every tug on his scalp sends sparks down his spine, making goose bumps dance across his skin and pleasure build low in his belly; it is a feeling he cannot explain and cannot get enough of.

 

“I’ve a guild meeting,” he manages to say, words punctuated with huffs and moans. “And I’m going to – ah, to wear your present.” That present is a collection of pins. Each trails chains of different lengths and gauges, all ending in a cluster of pearls. They form a complicated pattern when woven into his hair, meant to make him more striking and intimidating than is usual. And then after – “I want you to wait home for me.” His back arches as he imagines it. “I want you to take down my braids.”

 

Dwalin growls. He releases Dori’s hands and forces him almost upright, reaching around to stroke Dori’s cock with his rough fingers – his hips still, and Dori feels the wet warmth of Dwalin’s crest, following soon after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still trailing by a day. 'Afterglow' tomorrow, and maybe another? Let's see.


	11. Afterglow - Dis/Thorin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Sibling Incest, Dirty (ish) Talk
> 
> For anon.

Rising up onto hands and knees, Dís stretches out to snatch her hairclip, smiling when her brother’s large hands settle on her hips to steady her. They encourage her to straddle him and she does without question, arms raised as she puts her hair in a messy bun.

 

Unlike her, Thorin has caught his breath but there is colour high in his cheeks and in tiny bites along his neck. “Why must you move around so much?”

 

She rests her hands on his chest, curling her fingers into the hair there. “Weren’t complaining earlier.” Dís scoots back a little, far enough that he groans softly. How sensitive is he after coming? She doesn’t know, and she suddenly wants to find out. “Maybe it’s just an indicator.”

 

“Of what?” His touch is gentle, fingers trailing over her arse and then down her thighs, tickling her knees before moving up again. It’s distracting.

 

“Of how poorly you’ve done. Aren’t I supposed to be unable to move or speak?”

 

Thorin’s lips twitch. “I don’t know. Are you?” He slides one hand up her stomach and between her breasts, tracing her collarbone. “I like it better when you’re shaking and screaming my name.”

 

“I don’t scream,” she replies primly.

 

“Could’ve fooled me.” His heated expression makes her bite her lip; his low murmur sends a shiver down her spine. “Wasn’t it you who was making demands earlier? I’m not too sure.”

 

He flicks his thumbs over her nipples, making her gasp.

 

“ _Harder, oh Thorin, please, harder, fuck me_.” To his credit, Thorin doesn’t put on a falsetto as he mimics her; he just makes his voice breathy, and _that_ is extremely (and strangely) sexy. “ _Please, please, please make me feel it for days_.”

 

Dís shifts, rising on her knees slightly, digging her nails into his shoulders. “I won’t deny I liked it. But you could’ve done better.”

 

He just smirks – and Dís whimpers when he curls two fingers into her, slowly, slickly moving. “I’m not done yet.” Thorin pulls his hand away and she whimpers again when he sucks on his fingers; he returns it between her legs and strokes over her clit. “You won’t be able to remember anything but my name.”

 

“So sure of yourself?” She grasps his wrist and fucks herself on his fingers (three now).

 

“So sure you’re going to scream.” Thorin’s eyes are half lidded. She wants to kiss him. “Again.”

 

Before she can reply, he takes his hand away. Flips their positions. He’s looming over her, forcing her legs apart, and now it’s his turn to suck a mark into the skin of her neck. Thorin’s hips are shifting; she can feel his cock, beautifully hard, sliding between her outer lips and brushing against her clit.

 

Dís clutches at his upper arms. He mouths his way to her ear. “You’re going to take my cock and you’re going to be dripping by the end of it. And then you’ll be spread for me while I lick you clean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops not sorry
> 
> (And then Frerin turns up and it becomes a threesome and Dis most definitely won't be able to speak or move.)
> 
> time for sleeeeep


	12. Friends with Benefits, Bifur/Oin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Pre-Quest (Ered Luin), Bifur pre-accident
> 
>  
> 
> And I would like to make it clear, there is nothing wrong with Bifur post-accident (besides the physical effect of the axe in his forehead), and I do not wish to come across as ableist. That is not my intention. It just coincides with the timeline I want.

Óin had been apprenticing under a healer and after a solid week of tending to victims of a forge explosion he’d collapsed into bed for proper sleep. He’d woken up to food on the small table by the bed – sitting up and rubbing his eyes, his mind still working to catch up, he wondered where the plate had materialised from.

 

Bifur strolled into his room with two cups in hand. “Ah! You are awake, my friend.”

 

“Have –” He yawned. “Have I been out long?”

 

“Only about a day. Glóin looked in on you earlier; told me I should forcibly feed you.”

 

Óin grunted, and gestured for Bifur to sit next to him. “That’d better be ale in there.” Happily, there was, and he downed his cup in one go. “I must remember to remind my brother that I don’t need coddling.”

 

“I’m not here to coddle you.” Bifur took a gulp from his own cup before passing it to Óin (who smiled faintly at him). “I am here to help so you aren’t too… tense.”

 

“I had to cut off more than one limb for several smiths. Too many.” He stared unseeingly into the cup. “If I am tense, it is not without cause.”

 

“I know,” Bifur said, patting Óin’s knee. “But you have helped them, even if it does not seem that way. You are skilled at what you do. I am not the only one who thinks this.”

 

“You needn’t resort to flattery.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile, and he put the cup down. “Thank you, Bifur. For the food and for your company.”

 

“I am here to help,” he repeated simply.

 

It was now that Óin realised that Bifur hadn’t moved his hand; now that it’d caught his attention, his palm was suddenly too-warm. Before he could say anything about it, Bifur let it slide upwards, stopping at mid-thigh.

 

“You only need to say no and I will stop.” Bifur’s gaze was serious. “But you are my friend, and I will do all in my power to diminish the burdens of your mind, if I can.”

 

“And since I am your friend, would you want me to… return the favour?”

 

“Only if you wish to.” Bifur raised his eyebrow. “You aren’t saying no.”

 

Óin’s breath shuddered as Bifur moved his hand to rest gently over his cloth-covered cock. “I’m not saying no.”

 

 

Bifur had straddled Óin; one hand was braced on the mattress and the other around their slicked cocks. Óin felt that he should be helping, but he couldn’t concentrate beyond thrusting his hips up against Bifur’s, their cocks rubbing and sliding in Bifur’s grip, messy, glorious. He felt close to spurting, _so_ close, licking the sweat off his top lip, breath whining and mingling with his moans.

 

Confused disappointment suffused Óin when Bifur released him; he watched his friend move down his body. Then he cried out as his cock was taken into a wet _hot_ mouth, and that _tongue_ , oh! –

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I'd catch up during the weekend but I didn't =( I suppose I'll get it done before the 31, in any case. Sorry guys.


	13. Strangers, Bombur/Nori

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: [Merhobbit](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1697855/chapters/3612326) 'verse, Pirates

As a ‘pearl diver’ – that is to say, pirate – Nori doesn’t necessarily have funds when he returns to port. This is one of those times. Methods to respond to this is by helping himself to the pockets of passersby; otherwise he is very good at weaving tales and holding people’s attention enough to earn some food and ale.

 

Today is one of the latter; he leans against the doorway and watches a cook, er, cook.

 

The other Dwarf is covered to the elbows in flour and works to flatten some dough. There is a bowl full of stewed meat that will doubtless go into a pie, this makes Nori’s belly very interested. But as his eyes roam over the cook’s form, another part of Nori takes notice (it’d be standing to attention, if he allows it).

 

He’s gorgeous. Nori doesn’t know his name, but that’s not very necessary. All he needs is his words and his mouth… and perhaps that bottle of oil on the counter.

 

“Did I mention that I’ve fought a kraken?” he asks casually, and the cook’s eyebrow lifts.

 

 

 

Hanging around after the inn closed for the night turns out to be an excellent idea (though his belly is full and his pocket heavier, so he needn’t linger).

 

Nori’s been lifted onto the table – earlier he’d wrapped his legs around the cook’s wide body, bringing him in close as they kissed and mouthed marks into skin. Now he’s on his back amongst bowls and cutlery, parts of him lightly dusted with flour, but he doesn’t care. Not when he’s being opened up with thick, slippery fingers.

 

The cook sucks a bite into Nori’s inner thigh and it’s painful, but this shifts into pleasure and Nori curses him for every worry of his teeth and swipe of his tongue. He reaches between his legs and wraps his fingers around his length, just holding. Ready to squeeze if he gets too excited too quickly.

 

“Fuck me,” he demands. He wants it so badly – he’s thanking the good fortune he has that’s led him here, moaning and sweaty and so very hard. “Your cock was so big in my mouth. Could hardly swallow it down.” He swipes his tongue over his lower lip, still tasting the salt sweet bitter. “Shove it in me.”

 

The cook licks a stripe up the back of Nori’s thigh. He’s very good with his mouth, very skilled, and his fingers are equally clever as they slide and stretch. “Sure you can take it?”

 

“Yes,” Nori hisses, and strokes himself slowly, hoping to catch the other Dwarf’s gaze. Heated eyes track his progress greedily, watching as he leaks onto his belly and as he reaches down to cup his stones. He licks his lips, wanting to reach out and sink his fingers into the cook’s ample flesh. Perhaps later. “I’ll tell everyone of your beauty. Of your prick. They’ll envy me.”

 

“Clever tongue,” the cook praises, smiling, and finally – _finally_ – sinks all the way into Nori.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's 'Lazy'. Which really fits my mood, _zzz..._


	14. Lazy, Bilbo/Frerin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: alive!Frerin.

“This alright?”

 

“Mmm. Yes.” Frerin’s breath hitched for a moment, and then he sighed, pushing back. “A little slower.”

 

“Slower?”

 

He grunted. “Needn’t sound so surprised.”

 

Bilbo’s hands pushed at his thigh, holding it up further and spreading Frerin for his personal pleasure. He did comply with Frerin’s request, pulling out with deliberate slowness then moving his hips forward and grinding in deep. “You remember my birthday.”

 

“I do.” It was a _very_ fond memory. “Very glad that Hobbits give gifts instead of receiving them.”

 

“You were very good at receiving,” Bilbo praised, voice warm. “But I’m rather more concerned with your unreasonable demands then, insisting I go faster.”

 

“It was perfectly reasonable.” And his demand for leisurely fucking was proving to be perfect as well. Frerin hummed when Bilbo’s cock unhurriedly slid over his nub. “I thought you were concerned with my arse. And the way I took you in. Like now.”

 

“You’re ridiculous.”

 

“I don’t care. Oh –” He shifted, half burying his face into the pillow. “Oh just there, dearheart, please.” The hot length within him was glorious – even when Bilbo stopped thrusting altogether. Frerin’s mood today was one of indolence; lying back, happy as Bilbo did all the work, and only interrupting with two or three suggestions.

 

Then again, he was quite happy to do that most days.

 

Bilbo’s knees shuffled over the sheets. He rocked his hips, withdrawing and returning an inch, if that. He ducked his head and fluttered kisses over the back of Frerin’s knee, making the Dwarf arch and ache for him.

 

He had woken up to a friendly prick nudging up against his arse; it wasn’t long at all before his own arousal sharpened and made him properly alert. He’d stretched to filch the oil before turning in Bilbo’s arms. His Hobbit was incredibly beautiful – his cock even more so, and Frerin took great pleasure in slathering him in oil until Bilbo was awake and able to return his kisses.

 

“I love you,” he said now. “I love you.” Reaching out he sifted his fingers through messy curls and traced the tip of a pointy ear; Frerin felt the breath in his chest catch when Bilbo smiled.

 

A curve of generous lips, bright and gentle and warm. Bilbo caught his hand and kissed the backs of his fingers and then, looking and sounding as if he was sweetly asking for a dance, said, “Touch yourself.”

 

Frerin readily obeyed.

 

There were no more words between them. Bilbo stayed his speed and Frerin made sure to match the rhythm, flicking his wrist on the upstroke as Bilbo bottomed out. Their panting and moaning was a duet, turning ragged at the edges, rising in volume and then falling into shuddering gasps as they crested and fell. Bilbo slowly curved his body so he could rest atop a Dwarvish chest, stroking through the golden curls there and firmly remaining within Frerin.

 

“Good morning,” he said finally, still refusing to move or pull out, and Frerin laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really behind. I think four days? But sleep and school are more important. Let's see when I'll catch up.


	15. Laughter, Bifur/Nori/Bilbo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Threesome - M/M/M, post BoTFA
> 
> So late, so sorry.

It has taken some time, but Bilbo has again settled into life in the Shire. It is a little jarring sometimes, to wake up in a soft bed, to wield only a small knife, to be in a place where no one wants to kill him. Not bad things, but jarring.

 

Bilbo supposes it helps that Bifur is with him. The Dwarf has also settled into Hobbit society; initial disapproval and distrust has eventually worn away, especially given the gentleness Bifur displays to everyone he meets. He is a solid presence for Bilbo, bringing him out of any lapses in concentration. Bilbo is very grateful that Bifur had consented to stay in Bag End, instead of choosing to live in Erebor but trekking to visit Bilbo every so often.

 

The last of their trio does not live in Bag End or Erebor – or anywhere – for long periods of time. Nori tells them that it is not in his nature to stay in one place; they tell him that they understand. They miss his company and his wit, they miss his fire bright as his hair, they miss him but they do not doubt that he will always come back to them, as he has done today.

 

Between the two of them, Bilbo and Bifur have made Nori spill twice (oh, the wonders of Dwarvish stamina). Once in Bifur and once down Bilbo’s throat. When he swallows, he can still taste Nori. When he is kissed, he assumes that Bifur tastes Nori as well.

 

“I’ve missed you,” Nori says. He’s lying on his side and wears only a leather thong around his neck. A carved wooden bead and a rough garnet are strung on it and they rest against his collarbones. “And not just because of this bed… and what we do in it.” He licks his top lip. “Though I do like the view.”

 

Bifur’s hand signs are a little shaky, given that Bilbo is currently fucking him, but they roughly translate to: “ _Your visage as you spurted down our Hobbit’s throat – that was a beautiful sight._ ”

 

“Glad to be of service.” He looks pleased and stretches to tug on Bilbo’s curls. “And how are you holding up, our Hobbit?”

 

“With my hands and knees,” Bilbo replies. The long-suffering twist of Nori’s mouth makes him grin. “Otherwise I’m doing very well.” And he is. Bifur is stretched and slick from Nori’s cock, and every thrust of Bilbo’s hips is accompanied by obscene, slippery sounds, over which are pants and grunts and moans.

 

“Think you’re very clever, do you?”

 

“Exceedingly.”

 

“Well I think you’re wrong.”

 

Bilbo thinks he’s very skilled to continue moving as he consideringly tips his head to the side. He pastes a thoughtful expression on his face, mocking Nori. “Perhaps you’re right.”

 

Braided eyebrows lift. “I am?” Surprise colours his tone.

 

“Obviously. I’m in love with you, aren’t I?”

 

And then Bifur laughs, with Bilbo still in him, and it is the most glorious feeling in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, it's not very funny. I didn't think this through.


	16. Author's Choice: Boobs, Dori/Balin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Rule 63'd Balin, Rule 63'd Dori
> 
> Unfortunately 'breasts' is the only relevant tag. I would've preferred 'boobs' (and do, incidentally).

It is a very pleasing pastime of Balin’s to sneakily touch her Dori during the course of the day.

 

She must do so in a stealthy enough way that no one else notices any of her touches are deliberate – no one but Dori, that is. That way Balin can watch as Dori’s jaw tightens, or watch her blue eyes flash, or watch the delicate flush across her cheekbones. (She always considers that last a victory.)

 

Today, however… today Dori has turned the tables on Balin.

 

She isn’t sure how long Dori’s planned this; Balin tries not to gape as she watches her soon-to-be wife. It is known that Dori prefers structured clothing of her own design, with accents of silver thread and heavy trousers beneath her long tunic. She wears pearls in her braids and the necklace she always wears is hidden beneath the high collar of her undershirt.

 

But now she wears a gown – it is a deep purple, with a rigid bodice, and reaches just above her knees. Beneath are thin breeches, tucked into boots with shining buckles. She wears her usual jewellery and there is a sheer white robe that goes over the whole ensemble… and nothing can hide the near-scandalous dip of her neckline.

 

Balin _has_ to touch.

 

Years and years of protocol stays her hand – besides which, she won’t embarrass Dori or herself by doing something so boorish as fondling her One in public. Instead, Balin tightly clasps her hands together. She sees the tiny, triumphant smile on Dori’s face and vows revenge.

 

She gets it.

 

The overrobe is gone – tossed onto the floor, and perhaps Dori will make her pay for that later. Right now Dori is too distracted. Balin has loosened the laces that do up the bodice, undoing them enough to tug the gown low so that Dori’s glorious breasts spill over the stiff neckline.

 

Balin holds Dori against the wall by her wrists – fully aware that she can be thrown off by Dori’s superior strength, and fully aware that she isn’t being thrown off – and doesn’t even bother with kissing her. She puts her face between Dori’s breasts and glories in the fact that she is allowed to do this, to feel the soft ampleness, to touch to kiss to bite.

 

Dori’s neck arches when Balin moves to one nipple and does all three. She swirls her tongue around the pebbled nub to soothe it from the onslaught of her teeth, only to suck hard enough that Dori cries out softly. (They are, after all, in Dori’s office.)

 

She retracts a hand, trusting Dori to behave, and eagerly grasps Dori’s other breast. Her thumb brushes over an already-tight nub and she grins against silky skin. There is no doubt Dori is wet and aching for her fingers – but Balin refrains. She closes her teeth over the other nipple – it calls for her attention –, hears the whimper, and vows to pull at least one crest from Dori without reaching between her legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sleep for me. tomorrow's 'overstimulation', as of yet without a pairing. g'night.


	17. Overstimulation, Lindir/Kili

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Genderqueer Character (Lindir)
> 
> For PT. Lindir is wonderful.

The Dwarves’ display in the fountain had been alarming in so many ways – in fact, just the Dwarves themselves were alarming. To be entirely honest, Lindir would be glad when the company left, though they hoped that this was after receiving the help that they needed first.

 

And while they were being entirely honest, they had stolen a long, deliberate look at a certain Dwarf. It would have – should have – ended there, but there was the question of said Dwarf being in their room. In their bed.

 

His name was Kíli and he was rather charming and very handsome – and had a gentle touch. Lindir wouldn’t have expected that. Kíli’s large hands hold down Lindir’s hips, settled between their legs, and he was quite happy to kiss and lick and suck. His smile had promised great pleasures and it didn’t take long for Lindir to give in to that promise. Their thighs trembled even as Kíli crawled up their body.

“Are you too sensitive?” Kíli asked. “Because I’d quite like to fuck you.”

 

They frowned, slipping their hands up the Dwarf’s back. “But you spent yourself just now.” It’d been a very nice feeling, Kíli rutting mindlessly against their body until he spilled. And yet they could feel the fat cock stiff and hot against their belly. “You have some stamina,” they said, and Kíli looked very pleased. Lindir couldn’t do anything but kiss him, tangling one hand in dark hair.

 

“I’ll take that as a yes?”

 

Lindir groaned into the pillow. They were on their knees as Kíli fucked them for the _third_ time. It was almost _too_ much, this aching, all-encompassing bliss, but Lindir still pushed back onto Kíli’s cock as best they could. They shivered as bristly kisses were placed along their spine, moaned loudly when thick fingers reached between their legs. They didn’t know whether to twist away or press closer, fingers clenched in the sheets.

 

Every thrust of Kíli’s hips was deliberate and measured; how could he still be so controlled when he had spurted so many times? There were many stories and speculations about Dwarves, and this was new to Lindir. New and extremely delightful, and one they’d keep to themselves.

 

Kíli cursed and pulled out of Lindir with a slick sound. He pushed at their hips, “Turn, turn around, on your back –”

 

They obeyed, watching avidly as Kíli desperately stroked himself, flushed face tight with pleasure. Then he painted Lindir’s skin with his seed and put out a hand before he fell forward. He sucked in great gulps of air, and Lindir thought that he was finally sated. Indeed, after Kíli had caught his breath, he cleaned the mess he’d made on their skin, seeming content.

 

Then: “Give me a few minutes and we can keep going?”

 

Lindir laughed, reaching out and cupping Kíli’s bristly jaw in their hands. “You should kiss me for those minutes,” they said, smiling, “and then you can have my mouth.”

 

Kíli didn’t need to be told twice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So did you guys see the DoS Extended Edition?


	18. Rough Sex, Bilbo/Thorin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Loud Sex, Bottom!Thorin, Laughter
> 
> I should really have used this for the laughter prompt, ah well. And not a rarepair, I know, but I've got withdrawals that've been made worse by the DoS EE. And this is totes alkjira's fault, as is most things. (ily bb)

They’d both been so busy recently, but today is theirs, free of any responsibilities but each other, punctuated by war films, a long afternoon nap, and baking cookies (but mostly eating them). They’d even dined at a swanky restaurant. It feels like their first date all over again; good food, easy laughter, fingers twined as they talk over coffee. But it’s better than a first date, because there is no anxious wondering about what awaits them after.

 

Wanton strewing of clothes is usually limited to the young and passionate – but while they’re no longer the former, no one can say that the passion is gone from their relationship.

 

Bilbo has Thorin’s braids twisted tightly around one hand, and Thorin would love to kiss him but for the fact that he’s pressed against the living room wall. Bilbo’s knee nudging his legs apart is far more appealing prospect and he cants his hips backwards. Bilbo makes an appreciative noise and smacks down on Thorin’s arse.

 

“Fuck,” he exhales, “fuck me.”

 

“No lube.”

 

Oh, right. They aren’t in the bedroom. “Don’t need it.” Thorin groans when Bilbo’s cock slides between his legs, brushing up against his bollocks. “We – the afternoon –”

 

“That’s right,” Bilbo says conversationally, as if he’d not just stolen Thorin’s words by curling two fingers into him. “Ever so clever.” He holds dark hair out of the way, kisses the base of Thorin’s neck, then bites.

 

He continues to suck a mark into Thorin’s skin as he stretches and strokes, only letting off when he replaces his fingers with his cock. It’s not a smooth slide in – not yet – and both of them breathe harshly after Bilbo’s bottomed out. Thorin’s barely ready when Bilbo drags out and thrusts back in, his pace fast and his cock perfect, _perfect_ –

 

“Yes! Oh, fuck, yes –” Sex after lunch had been slow and lovely, but this is _so good_. Thorin’s not usually this loud, but he can break free from routine, can deal with the hoarseness that’s going to follow. Especially if he’s being fucked like this. “Bilbo, _harder_ – give – give me –”

 

“Oh, I’ll give it to you –”

 

Bilbo grasps Thorin’s hips greedily and Thorin braces his arms on the wall above his head, spreading his legs and meeting Bilbo’s thrusts with short snaps of his own hips. God, his thighs are already trembling, and he’d better be able to keep standing –

 

"NOOOO DONT SPLIT UP! NOOO! FLY! FLY YOU FOOLS!"

 

They stop immediately, horrified. That - that’s their _neighbour_ , who’s supposed to be _overseas_ –

 

Thorin can’t help it – he laughs and then covers his mouth, seconds before Bilbo’s swatting his shoulder, hissing, “Shh!”

 

“You shush,” Thorin retorts, voice strangled in his efforts to do the same. He can feel Bilbo shaking with laughter and that only makes him snicker all the more. It’s really too much for the both of them; unable to hold the other up, they sink to the floor, giggling, grasping and shushing each other, and absolutely failing to be quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bottom!Thorin (and Thorin's bottom) - you can't deny the loveliness.
> 
> (btw, their neighbour is Gandalf, if it wasn't obvious. another thing to thank alkjira for)


	19. Kneeling, Dis/Frerin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Sibling Incest

His sister had thighs to die for – and now that he thought about it, it was very likely that she’d literally be able to kill with those thighs. Even if he’d before had them tight around his head, Frerin didn’t want to properly test this theory. He was happier with being on his knees in front of Dís, holding her legs apart as she perched at the edge of their bed.

 

Between them they’d removed most of her clothes, leaving her in beribboned pants and her usual gold chain. She made for a very pretty picture, his sister; dark coils of hair pulled up and pinned into place, sitting back with her hands on the bed, her pearl locket nestling between her breasts. Her eyeshadow was smudged and all of her lip gloss had most likely rubbed off onto his lips.

 

Contrastingly, Frerin had lost only his suit jacket and waistcoat. His braces had been slipped off his shoulders and his shirt was partially loosed from his trousers, but that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was his Dís. And her thighs.

 

He pressed kiss after kiss along the sinfully soft skin, marking his progress with every sigh and hitched breath. From experience he knew that his beard bristled and tickled; Dís was not afraid to inform him of what she liked and disliked, and she’d told him that this sensation was maddening and gorgeous all at once. He deliberately dragged his cheek over her skin, glancing up at her closed eyes and the way her teeth sunk into her lower lip.

 

She smelled amazing.

 

When he mouthed at her skin, Dís finally wove her fingers into his loose hair. This wasn’t to direct his attentions anywhere – she rarely had to do such a thing, since she liked his teasing as much as he did – but as a small reward. Frerin groaned; every tug of her fingers produced an accompanying throb between his legs. God. He wanted her so badly, wanted to let her sprawl on her back as he rose from his kneeling position, wanted to loom over her and fuck her, wanted to spill inside her.

 

He looked up again, meeting her dark eyes, heated beneath half-open eyelids. She wanted him too.

 

Still, Frerin was nothing if not a considerate brother. Dís was beautiful and every glance at her made his chest tight with emotion, and in the warmth of this afternoon he was going to coax three orgasms out of her. At the least. He soothed the mark he’d worried into her inner thigh and felt her grip on his hair tighten. Smiling, he shifted his grip on her, moving his hands behind her knees and pushing up so her legs are hovering just above the floor. Her moans take on a whining edge. He spreads her wider.

 

Dís’ knickers were already wet; Frerin gleefully shuffled forwards on his knees and traced the shape of her with his tongue, and set about making them even wetter.


	20. Strap-On, Bombur/Ori

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Rule 63'd Ori, Rule 63'd Bombur, Teenage AU, (hints of) Sibling Incest

Ori never feels as wonderful as when she is beneath Bombur.

 

She has her gangly arms twined around the other girl’s neck and alternates between squeezing her eyes shut and staring up at Bombur. She prefers to do the latter, beautiful as her girlfriend is, but there are times when the pleasure is almost too much to bear. She’s already come once; Bombur had stilled instead of pulling out, kissing Ori luxuriously until she was no longer as sensitive.

 

Bombur moves her hands to rest on Ori’s practically-flat chest, resting for a moment before she pinches Ori’s nipples. She yelps, hips bucking, and bites her lip when Bombur repeats the action and tugs. It feels good.

 

“Ssh.” It’s obvious that Bombur’s trying to be serious, but it’s not quite working. “I told you, Bofur’s downstairs.”

 

Ori presses her head back into the pillow, collecting her thoughts. It takes her a moment, but she’s always been adamant that she speaks in complete sentences for as long as she’s able to stay coherent. “He’s not going to barge in – your door’s locked. I locked it.”

 

“He’ll bang at the door.” Bombur grins. “Demanding that he gets to bang you.”

 

She opens her mouth but pauses in horror, realising that it’s intrigue that shoots through her rather than indignation. That’s… that’s not proper at all, and she needs to say something before Bombur suspects –

 

“Mmm, that look on your face is very promising.”

 

Blink. Wait. Wait, what? “You –?”

 

“We’ll talk about it later.” Bombur kisses her smartly, then straightens. “Now come on, up, up.” She ignores Ori’s complaints, pulling out slickly and sitting back on her heels. “Hands and knees. I want to see that lovely arse.”

 

Ori has questions to ask, many questions, but she does as told. They can wait until after the both of them are done having sex. Bombur immediately rewards her, and when the dildo is all the way inside Ori, she clicks the button on the side. Both of them groan over the low buzz and accompanying vibration.

 

“Please, please.” Her elbows wobble. “Move, Bombur, _please_ – oh!”

 

Ori can’t help but brace her forearm on the pillow so she can press her mouth against it. She’s tried many times to stop her desperate moans and shuddering gasps, but she can do nothing more than stifle them. It’s so difficult to be quiet when your girlfriend is a great fuck and isn’t shy about using her knowledge to her advantage, like now when Bombur pushes Ori’s hips down so her legs slide further apart.

 

“Up.” She releases Ori’s hips, leaning down and pressing her front to Ori’s back. Her fingers again go to fondle one breast. She puts her lips to Ori’s ear and whispers, “Want you to think of me fucking you until you’re shaking and begging, barely able to remember your name.” Bombur’s hand slides down. “And then imagine, as you’re lying there wet and pliant, just imagine my brother sinking his cock into you.”

 

 _Fuck_ –

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idek man. the dialogue about the 'demanding to bang you' happened, and then I wanted Bofur involved properly? fics defs help you discover things...


	21. Frottage, Nori/Kili

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Vampire!Kili (from alkjira's [Bite Me](http://archiveofourown.org/series/119074) series)
> 
> by the way: while trying to copy the smutlet and paste it here, MWord crashed on me. So. If this sounds odd, it's because I was desperately trying to remember what I'd written. I sort of succeeded, but the first effort was better that this TwT

Having a tall, dark, handsome, and (usually) leather-clad vampire for a boyfriend really sounded like something out of the tawdry books his brothers loved to read. (And let it be known that Nori didn’t share that taste at all. Well… okay, he did read some of them, but the point was that they honestly were ridiculous.)

 

 

Vampire as he was, Kíli was really far from the clichéd idea of one. He was loud and goofy and full of smiles and laughter. If he’d had blood in his veins he’d constantly be blushing as well, given Nori’s predilection for ‘inappropriate’ jokes as well as his predilection for Kíli’s arse.

 

Speaking of, he had his hands on the lovely arse in question, grasping and squeezing and pinching. Face buried in Nori’s neck, Kíli groaned accordingly. He’d taken some blood earlier, explaining his hard cock and the way it slid through the mess on Nori’s belly.

 

Nori whined a little when Kíli licked the still-tender bite mark on his neck. He wanted to be bitten again, to be sucked (ahaha), but he didn’t want to come before Kíli.

 

“‘m not sure if I can do that,” Kíli mumbled. He lifted his head to look into Nori’s eyes, every thrust of his hips making their – that is to say, Nori’s – rickety bed rock back and forth.

 

(Nori wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be smug about the creaking and squeaking, or worried. It’d probably depend on whether the bed frame lasted until they’d both finished.)

 

“Why? You’ve bitten me while we fucked.”

 

“Not the same. I don’t think I can control my speed.”

 

Nori blinked. “Speed of fucking or sucking?”

 

“Sucking.” Kíli rolled his eyes. His hips moved with an unerring rhythm. “I’m afraid that I’ll not be able to stop, that I’ll end up drinking you dry. And then what are you going to do?”

 

“Well it sounds like I’ll be dead, so that’s your problem to deal with.”

 

“Not funny.”

 

“Yeah, and that’s not a smile you’re trying to hide.” It was a pity that Kíli still couldn’t blush, despite having drank blood earlier. (Yet he could to maintain an – admittedly lovely – erection. Vampire bodies were weird.) “Why don’t you alternate between sucking me and not?”

 

“Keep biting you? I don’t know…”

 

“I’ve survived worse,” Nori lied. “Why not count the heartbeats; I know you’re good at that. Three on, three off.” When Kíli did nothing more than continue looking unsure, Nori put on his best begging voice. “And you don’t have to fuck me. Just hold my hips. Pin me down. Then rut against me until you come.”

 

Kíli’s fangs looked awfully sharp against his full lower lip.

 

“Come on.” Nori arched up against his vampire boyfriend, dragging his nails up Kíli’s muscled back, tangling his fingers in dark hair. He pulled Kíli down and nuzzled their noses together. “I’m offering myself to you. Only you.”

 

Pulling again, Nori kissed Kíli’s ear. “Take my blood,” he whispered, “and take _me_.”


	22. Virgins, Dain/Thorin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Post-Azanulbizar, Incest, Angst, Canon Ages (Thorin = 53, Dain = 32)
> 
> This one requested by elenorasweet. (No Balin, sorry.)
> 
> Just as a note, upon discussion with alkjira, their ages would be akin to Thorin being early twenties and Dain being about 16.

The battle has taken its toll. The Dwarves of all the Houses may have won, but the fact remains that they are significantly lessened in number. There may yet be more deaths come morning (and come the next few months), of those who succumb to their injuries.

 

The dead have been put in pyres. If nothing else, the ashes of all those Dwarves will sink into the earth instead of returning to the stone, and that is the best they can hope for with the options that remain.

 

Thorin thinks on all of this; the long days of battle that have preceded today’s ‘victory’; the strategies and plans and offensives; the death and massacre of his grandfather that had precipitated this whole sorry situation. He thinks on the death of his little brother.

 

Even with an army made up of Dwarves from all seven houses, there’d been too many fighters barely out of their childhood, younger even than Thorin. Frerin had not even passed his first half-century. Their sister Dís, nine years his junior, had fought. And then, of course, there is their cousin Dáin…

 

Thorin and he have both lost so much, but it is Dáin who lost his father, it is Dáin suddenly thrust into Kingship, it is Dáin who is now wholly responsible for the Iron Hills. It is Dáin who has come to Thorin’s tent, to his arms, to his bed. They offer comfort to each other.

 

It is their first time.

 

 

 

“Come with me,” Dáin whispers between urgent kisses. “Stay in the Iron Hills.”

 

For a moment Thorin is tempted, but he knows in his heart of hearts that he cannot. His duty lies with his family, now more than ever. “Dáin –”

 

“No.” Their bodies, their cocks clumsily slide together, hot, slick. Their hands shake. “I cannot do this alone. My – my _father_ –”

 

Thorin cradles Dáin’s jaw as best he can with stiff fingers, gently coaxing so that they can touch foreheads. “You must be strong – you know I cannot stay –”

 

“I am a King,” he says, and it should be commanding. The quiver of his lips and the unshed tears in his eyes are not. Dáin’s breaths come more quickly, as do the push of their hips. “Obey me.”

 

Thorin’s hands slide down bruised and battered skin, stopping to cup Dáin’s arse, to help them rut. “Care for your people. Help them heal, become strong again – just as you must do for yourself. And you will. I know you will.”

 

“I won’t, I can’t –” This time their kiss is barely more than a press of mouths, desperate, messy. Dáin hides his face against Thorin’s neck, tears hot against his skin. “Stay with me – oh, Thorin, cousin, please, _please_ –”

 

And how can he say no? Thorin’s duty is to his family, as he knows, and is Dáin not part of that? Thorin's chest tightens, watching Dáin shudder and spill and sob in his arms. “I will stay,” he promises. _If only for a little while_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too much smut in this one, but it was difficult to keep to 500. 
> 
>  
> 
> On a lighter note, the next prompt "Spitroasting" already has a pairing, but if you've any suggestions for "Ring", and then "Phone Sex", I'm all ears.


	23. Spitroasting, Balin/Bofur/Dwalin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Sibling Incest (ish)
> 
> Mentioned in a comment by Everbright on the orgy chapter. And I've got to admit, I don't ship Balin/Dwalin by itself, but if Bofur's added... *shrugs*

Bofur's very good at taking cock.

 

This is a skill that’s been thoroughly tested; Balin is selfless when it comes to devoting their private time to pursue this study. In turn, Bofur is patient during the testing, standing and sitting and kneeling and sprawling when asked, gladly taking Balin’s cock in his mouth and between his thighs and up his arse.

 

If there’s something that Bofur enjoys more, it’s taking _more_ than one cock.

 

When he broaches the subject, Balin is unsure. It is a very compelling image, that cannot be denied, but there is the matter of _sharing_ that doesn’t sit well with him, even if it is a temporary arrangement. The other person or people should be worthy of Bofur’s time and abilities, that’s Balin’s opinion.

 

He expects Bofur to be insulted, but the other Dwarf merely smiles. “We’re comfortable telling the other our wants.” Bofur again lays his head on Balin’s chest. “I thought you’d be insulted… that you’d think I wasn’t satisfied.”

 

Balin twines brown hair around his fingers. “And are you satisfied?”

 

Bofur fondly strokes Balin’s cock. “I’ll not say no to another fuck.”

 

 

 

Just this morning Bofur had waltzed into Balin’s office with a grin on his face as he locked the door behind him. To the raised eyebrows levelled at him, he’d said, “I know the perfect Dwarf to join us in bed.” The look in his eyes had been very wicked. “I know you’ll say yes.”

 

And Balin had.

 

 

 

Bofur’s incandescent in his pleasure. Balin knows the (muffled) moans and the pleased arch of his spine – more than that, he can see Bofur’s expression. Cheeks flushed, eyes closed, and a mouth that would’ve been smiling widely if it hadn’t been stretched wide around Balin’s cock.

 

His fingers clutch the sheets and his toes are curled, and his hips are being held still by large, tattooed hands. Yet he rocks forward, humming happily around Balin each time. At the other end of the bed (and, aha, at Bofur’s other end), Dwalin drives into Bofur with aching steadiness, filling him up and then pulling almost all the way out.

 

It’s perhaps strange (wrong?) to share a partner with your brother and yet Balin – and his _brother_ – had agreed to this. Balin is sure that he’s never thought of Dwalin in this sort of context but Bofur’s not-innocent suggestion had brought forth nothing but lustful intrigue.

 

By all rights Balin shouldn’t be distracted from Bofur’s greedily slurping mouth – it is too _beautiful_ to be ignored completely, though – but he cannot help but notice the tight muscles of Dwalin’s belly and arms. He’d earlier watched as Bofur enthusiastically lapped at Dwalin’s hard cock. He sees the rings in Dwalin’s nipples and wants to reach forward to tug on them.

 

Dwalin’s thrusts become suddenly forceful; Bofur’s almost crying out, taking Balin in as far as he can. Balin’s eyes lift and he catches his brother’s hungry gaze, catches him licking his lips.

 

They do not break gazes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not proper incest if it's a threeway?


	24. Ring, Bilbo/Bombur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Sensory Deprivation (of a sort)
> 
>  
> 
> it's not October anymore and I still haven't caught up /sobbing laughter
> 
> This one's for ThornyHedge and BRP.

Turned out that having your cream puffs stolen was actually beneficial; that hadn’t been what Bombur would’ve expected. He’d spent most of the morning baking and was very pleased to see them laid out on the counter. He’d turned to pick up the second tray to set it next to the first, and that was when he’d noticed the missing ones.

 

There was only one possible culprit and Bilbo had good-naturedly admitted to the crime, cheeks bulging with pastry and invisible-making ring removed and tucked into his pocket.

 

“You could’ve waited until after the party.”

 

“Then there wouldn’t be any left for me.” Bilbo winked and stole another. Bombur would’ve thwapped him with the rolling pin, only his attention suddenly focused on Bilbo licking the bit of cream at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, and because Bilbo was always a Hobbit of his word, Bombur patiently waited.

 

And now, as he lay on his back being opened by slick fingers, Bombur was glad he did. His cock was already standing to attention, in no small part due to Bilbo’s skilled tongue. He cursed when he felt a thumb slide over the head – felt and not saw. A bit hard to do that when his lover was invisible.

 

Of course Bombur knew that Bilbo was _there_. There was the dip in the mattress where he kneeled, the obvious touches that he was being subjected to, and the endearments and praises he could hear dropping from Bilbo’s mouth. It was a little strange, listening to a disembodied voice, but he didn’t care so long as Bilbo’s hands kept moving…

 

“Has it been so long since I’ve fucked you last?”

 

It had been some time, Bombur wanted to answer. He groaned instead when his cock was stroked slowly, seed leaking along his length.

 

“You’re so, so tight,” Bilbo cooed. “Can I start? Do you want me to? I want to see you open up.”

 

“Yesss.” He’d have reached out to pull Bilbo into a kiss, but he couldn’t see where the Hobbit was, and his limbs didn’t quite want to obey, especially when Bilbo’s cock sunk all the way into him. Instead Bombur made sure to keep his eyes open – something that probably would be considered strange because all he could really see were the depressions in his thighs made by the grip of Bilbo’s fingers. But it was Bilbo’s invisibility that made Bombur’s breath quicken.

 

Without being able to watch it, the thrusts of Bilbo’s hips and the accompanying push/pull of his cock threw Bombur into a higher plane of pleasure. He was suddenly excruciatingly sensitive to every quick drag over his nub, suddenly unfailingly able feel every slap of Bilbo’s bollocks against his skin, suddenly incredibly hyperaware of the ten separate points of Bilbo’s nails digging into his flesh.

 

Those ten suddenly became five, and Bombur bit down on his fist when Bilbo took him in hand, pumping unceasingly until he spilled.


	25. Phone Sex, Tauriel/Frerin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Modern AU

“I can’t wait until this dinner is over.”

 

Frerin tried not to show too much confusion on his face, resting his elbow on the table so he could discreetly speak into his cufflink/microphone. “I know _I’m_ looking forward to leaving, but you aren’t even here.”

 

“I’m looking forward to you coming back to the palace,” Tauriel replied.

 

Ah, well that was understandable. Even as his personal security, she hadn’t been able to accompany him; it would probably be a lot less stressful for her once he’d returned.

 

“Also looking forward to you coming in me.”

 

He almost choked on his prosecco. “You’re supposed to be looking out for threats.”

 

“I am. Doesn’t stop me from wanting you to go find a mirror and then wank in front of it.” Tauriel’s smile was very clear even through the tiny earpiece he wore. “Though you’ll have to keep the tie, else I can’t see you.”

 

“Did you do this when you worked in Mirkwood?”

 

“Ugh, of course not. The prince was – _is_ – much too young.”

 

“I’m a prince, too.”

 

“But old enough for sex,” she purred. “Old enough to spread on the sheets and ride all night.”

 

Frerin made a garbled noise. He did have a heavy napkin over his lap just in case his cock decided that it was time to rise to attention, but he’d rather not have that happen in the off chance that he’d end up coming in his clothes. Not ideal when you were royalty at an important dinner.

 

It was lucky that his neighbour was deep in quiet conversation with the person on her other side. He tried to concentrate on the harps and flutes of the provided entertainment, but the musical voice in his ear was far more compelling than Mozart.

 

“I’m not sure if I want you out of your official uniform. It looks good on you, the high collar in particular.” She hummed consideringly. “Maybe I’ll just unbutton the jacket and shirt, parting them just enough so I can get to your chest, and that delightful piercing.”

 

He didn’t squirm. Very few knew about the barbell in his navel, and only Tauriel knew how much he enjoyed it when her teeth clinked on the small topaz set into it.

 

“Then I’m going to undo your belt and unbutton your trousers.” Tauriel paused. “Are you wearing pants?”

 

“…no.”

 

“So clever, my prince,” she teased. “I’ll be sure to reward you. If that’s what you want, of course. Is it?”

 

When Frerin swallowed, his throat clicked. His lips were almost pressed to the inside of his wrist when he muttered, “What reward?”

 

“I’ll suck you off. Make you all wet and slick, until you’re ready and begging for me to sit and bounce on your dick. I want you to think of this, think of watching my breasts as I screw myself on you.” Her next breath was shaky, and Frerin licked his lips. “And think of me touching myself… like I’m doing now.”


	26. Public Sex, Gimli/Kili

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Incest (cousins), Modern AU
> 
> Asked for by ehliena.

“No, no, no. I’m not going to –”

 

“Yes, you _are_ going to do me. I know you want to.”

 

“Well yes, but not _here_. I’ll get killed. We’ll get killed.”

 

“Sounds like you’ve had experience.”

 

“…”

 

“ _Have_ you?”

 

“…sort of?”

 

“How can you ‘sort of’ have sex outside?”

 

“We were half-hidden by shrubbery? It was a college party, I’m sure people had better things to focus on.”

 

“Well, there’s a party now, and everyone else has better things to focus on.”

 

“I had to climb up a _tree_. You know how difficult that is while trying to hike up your trousers? I lost my favourite pants, too.”

 

“Sounds exciting.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Come on, it’s not like we can shag in one of the guest rooms. Our parents aren’t going to know.”

 

“I’m more worried about Bilbo…”

 

“It’s his birthday. He’s got loads to keep him occupied. Thorin especially.”

 

“Oh god, if Thorin finds out –”

  
“He won’t. Honestly. Now are we going to do this?”

 

“No. No, we’re not.”

 

 

 

“Oh, fuck. Oh fuck, Gimli, please more!”

 

Gimli sat back on his heels, holding Kíli’s cock steady and gazing up at him with an exasperated expression. “For someone who doesn’t want to be found out you’re being awfully loud. Maybe we should’ve switched.”

 

“Noooo.” Kíli was only just standing, propped against the wall at the side of the house that overlooked the vegetable garden. It was reasonably dark there and no one else was about. “Keep going, keep –” He whined a little when Gimli did no more than kiss the head of his cock, and then whined more when Gimli stood. “What’re you doing?”

 

“I’ve got to keep you quiet somehow.” He winked before stretching up, glad when Kíli ducked and met his lips. He’d not taken his hand away, and swallowed each breathy moan he pulled from Kíli’s mouth as he, aha, pulled Kíli off. “Wish I could fuck you.”

 

“I’m –” He broke off, biting his lip. “Not going to kneel amongst tomatoes.”

 

“Couldn’t I push you up against the wall?” Gimli breathed in deeply as he nuzzled the join of Kíli’s neck and shoulder, exposed after freeing a few buttons ealrier. “Have you stick your bum out. I could take you fast and hard.”

 

Insistent pulling on his hair caught his attention. Kíli’s eyes were dark and full of promise. “Let’s try.”

 

Neither had foresight enough to carry lube – it would’ve been mortifying to be caught with it anyway – so they didn’t have ‘proper’ sex. Instead Kíli braced his arms above his head, bent at the waist, and kept his thighs together as best he could while Gimli fucked him that way. Without proper slick, progress was tempered with friction, but it fit very well with the daring, spur-of-the-moment quality of their activities.

 

Gimli wondered at the image they presented: both with jeans pushed down only as far as necessary, in the dark, _outside_ , with Kíli making absolutely delicious noises, and he reached around to give his cousin a helping hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then I'm sure Bilbo finds out anyway and forces them to weed the vegetables.


	27. Multiple Orgasms, Tauriel/Dwalin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Modern AU
> 
> I think another first re: pairing?

“Bloody fucking hell.”

 

“ _You’re_ swearing?” Tauriel seems to be having trouble breathing; a very good reason to stare at her chest as it rises and falls.

 

If only Dwalin had been a little more limber – he’s built a little too solidly to bend over to suck and bite at her tits. As it is he can’t even grope them; his arms feel like they’re going to give out. He locks his elbows. “I haven’t come yet.” Fuck but he’s close. “You’ve three.”

 

“Four,” she corrects, breathless. Her red hair fans across the sheets, framing freckled shoulders and delicate collarbones. Tauriel traces his lower lip with two fingers. “Five, please?” she asks, and he obliges.

 

She’s a giggler, and that’d been a little surprising but is always lovely. Dwalin has seen many beautiful things and Tauriel is at the top of that list when she is shaking in his arms, green eyes brightly sparkling and smile wide across her face. Her hips buck and her spine arches, wet fingers circling and rubbing over her clit.

 

It takes massive willpower not to come then and there. Dwalin’s decided to wring as many orgasms as he can from Tauriel, and he wants to fuck her for as long as possible. Fingers and tongue are for later.

 

Amongst her laughter she tells him to stop – her hand on his hip is sign that she doesn’t want him to pull out, her chin lifting is sign that she wants to kiss him. She’s fantastic at it – she’s fantastic in bed, full stop – and Dwalin’s more than happy to let her trace his teeth with her tongue, especially if it affords him a little break.

 

He takes the opportunity to drag his nails up her ribs, to pinch and tug on her nipple. He feels her smile, feels her curl her calf around the back of his thigh, feels the hotslick of her around him.

 

Tauriel’s lips slide from his. Biting kisses follow the line of his jaw and she stops just below his ear. Dwalin slowly catalogues his weapons collection in his head, knowing that once Tauriel’s done, there’ll be a mark visible to _everyone_. Her tongue swipes over to soothe him, but his hips jerk forward and she cries out.

 

“Sit in my lap.” It’s genius; he can fuck her and at the same time rub his face, beard, mouth over her breasts.

 

“Can’t. ‘M jelly.” Tauriel stretches lazily, enough that Dwalin’s cock slips out of her, and both of them shudder in unison. It’s a little galling that she’s got enough coordination to slide her fingers through the messy wetness between her legs; it’s a lot galling that she winks.

 

With a growl he sits back on his heels, gripping her waist and effortlessly dragging her towards him. Her back curves, and curves more when his cock enters her, black-painted nails scrabbling in the sheets. Dwalin licks his lips, feels the heartbeat in the hickey on his neck, and then starts fucking her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I need to get these done before the hrbb. Are any of you participating in NaNo and/or the Reverse Big Bang?


	28. Restraints, Gloin/Oin/Dwalin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Sibling Incest, Pre-Erebor AU
> 
> Mist14 actually asked for Oin/Gloin but I... only really started being able to write it with the addition of Dwalin? I'm sorry if this wasn't what you wanted u-u

Óin hadn’t really believed Glóin when he’d mentioned Dwalin’s _interest_ – in not one but both of them – but he was glad to be proven wrong.

 

For starters, the lad was very handsome. He was broad shouldered and stocky and strong, skin decorated with tattoos and scars and dark hair. He had nothing to be shy about, especially not the cock that lay thick and hard and curved against his belly.

 

He did seem shy, though. The blush that dusted his cheeks (and spread down his chest) had been present when he’d entered Óin’ and Glóin’s shared quarters. And all the times Dwalin had come to the healing ward he’d been red-faced when Óin treated him. He’d put it down to embarrassment – being a warrior who wasn’t ‘supposed to’ get injured – but had obviously been mistaken.

 

But for now Óin was most concerned with the deep flush of Dwalin’s cock. He took it in hand, stroking along the (impressive) length and smiled to see the lad try to buck his hips up.

 

Glóin had put Dwalin’s arms and legs in an impressive mesh of knots and loops. He was very good with rope, as Óin knew from extensive experience. The rope was supple and did not chafe unduly, just provided maddening restraint to Óin while being subjected to the mercies of his brother.

 

On Dwalin, the rope blended with the ink on his skin and made him more pleasing to the eye. He did not strain against them, just flexed his wrists every so often, and while Óin would be sure to later rub down Dwalin’s skin where he’d been restrained, he concentrated on _rubbing_ Dwalin.

 

“Do you like this, laddie?” Glóin asked, breaking into Óin’s thoughts (though he was glad to savour the sight of his brother rutting against Dwalin, smearing himself against that powerful thigh).

 

Dwalin’s cheeks had turned an even ruddier hue and he bit at his lips before nodding. It was an image that sent filthy thoughts streaking through Óin’s mind. He moved his hand more quickly, suddenly wishing that one of Dwalin’s hands was free to tug him off at the same time.

 

Glóin’s breaths were starting to turn ragged. “You’re allowed to speak.”

 

“I’m…” The apple of Dwalin’s throat bobbed as he swallowed heavily. “Don’t know… what I should say?”

 

“You could say you like something. If you want something. Do you?”

 

Again Dwalin remained silent – or, he did not answer except to whine out a moan.

 

Óin met his brother’s eyes. “If he’s not going to say anything, I’d suggest you put that mouth to good use.” He smirked, turning back to watch Dwalin’s expression. “Stuff it full with your prick.”

 

Glóin stole a kiss from Óin before asking, “Is that what you want?”

 

There was hardly any pretty blue left in that heated gaze. “Yes.”

 

As a reward, Óin moved to straddle Dwalin and hold their cocks together – just as Glóin had straddled Dwalin’s chest and pushed his cock into Dwalin’s ready mouth.


	29. Clothed Sex, Fili/Ori

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags: Modern AU, Teenagers, Rule 63'd Ori
> 
> tbqh honest the idea for this came from a post on tumblr /shrugs  
> surname is from my constant life-saver, alkjira.

To be honest, they _had_ started out with studying. And, to be fair, Ori had gotten distracted first.

 

That was Fíli’s fault, though. He had no call looking so dishy, with his shirtsleeves folded up to his forearms, with his tongue caught between his teeth as he wrote, with his stupid glasses that he never wore in public but were so good at highlighting his long, fair eyelashes. Who could blame her for climbing on top of him and kissing him silly?

 

Granted, they needn’t have gotten carried away when the door was _wide open_ …

 

“Ori?”

 

“Mrs. Stenberg!” Her ears went hot, hands suddenly gripping the sheets too tightly. “I’m sorry, were you there long?”

 

She looked amused. “No, don’t worry. Just wanted to know if you’ve seen my rascal of a son?”

 

Despite the situation, Ori found herself asking, “Which one?”

 

Dís laughed. “The blond one. He was supposed to pick up a parcel for me.”

 

“Uh, no. Not recently, I mean.” Seated and half hidden behind the bed with her books on the covers, Ori did her best not to squirm in place – though she did want to, for more than one reason. “He went downstairs.”

 

“Really? I checked there first.”

 

One warm hand slid up under her shirt, tracing around her navel, and Ori covered her jump with a shrug. “Maybe he’s gone to get that parcel. You know how forgetful he is.” That earned her a pinch on her bum and Ori wished she could thump Fíli. Did he _want_ his mother to catch them?

 

“That sounds like him.” Dís sighed and leaned against the doorway, looking like she intended to stay for a while longer. Oh no. “How’s the physics doing?”

 

“Hard,” was the automatic answer, and Ori just about groaned when she felt Fíli laugh beneath her. At least he had the decency to keep quiet. “Of course Fíli’s not helping at all.”

 

“Can’t help you with either, I’m afraid. Though I could get Víli? He ought to be useful for something.”

 

“No! Um, I mean.” Ori was sure her whole face was red, and it didn’t help when Fíli started moving his hips just enough that he could fuck her unnoticeably. God, she hoped it was unnoticeable. “I don’t want to trouble Mr. Stenberg. I think I can handle a few equations.”

 

“Alright, sweetheart. Did you want to stay for dinner?”

 

“Yes, please,” she said, smiling – partly because she appreciated how lovely Mrs. Stenberg was, and partially so she’d leave and Ori could smack Fíli ‘round the head. She sagged with relief when Dís waved and headed back down the stairs.

 

Then Ori cast her most fearsome glare down at her naked boyfriend. “You owe me _big_ time.”

 

Fíli smiled lopsidedly at her, reaching further up her shirt to tease at the edge of her bra. “You’re amazing,” he said, which was only a little mollifying. “After this you can sit on my face and claim what I owe you.”

 

That would work.


	30. Size Difference, Beorn/Bard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Post BotFA

Work-rough hands slid down either side of his spine. Bard sighed into Beorn’s mouth. He lay half-atop the other Man as they traded deep kisses, free to scratch through and smooth down the ample curls across Beorn’s chest, feeling pleased rumbles against his palm. Beorn’s hands wandered lower, one cupping Bard’s arse, the other slipping down his thigh to his knee and encouraging he part his legs wider.

 

Bard did this without a fight. He started to rut against the solidity of Beorn’s hip, letting Beorn kiss him again and again.

 

Beorn was very different to all the men (and obviously all the women) Bard had bedded in the past. He’d easily lifted Bard earlier so he could wrap his legs around Beorn’s middle and be at a high enough level that they could kiss while upright; that had been a first. And Beorn was extremely deliberate in his actions, not quite gentle, but thorough as he mapped Bard’s body as if he was trying to memorise each hill and valley.

 

Not to mention he’d taken a very good look at Beorn’s cock; it was obviously not an inconsiderable size.

 

Now Bard reached down to stroke, only just able to fit his hand around its girth. He kept the same rhythm as that of his own hips, smiling and then laughing as Beorn groaned and clutched at him.

 

Beorn pulled back to gaze at Bard with half-lidded eyes. “Want to tup you,” he said, fingers tracing over Bard’s arsecheeks but not dipping between them (yet). He released Bard’s knee so he could put his hand over Bard’s, pressing it more firmly against his arousal. “Want to put this in you.” He kissed Bard again, pulling back and leaving him almost dizzy. “Do you want that?”

“Yes,” he answered, unhesitant. “But slowly.”

 

Beorn fetched some oil for them, made of beeswax, and instructed Bard to start opening himself up. He was _very_ attentive, helping to spread his legs and gazing at the slick motion of Bard’s fingers. The scrutiny made Bard blush darkly.

 

His cheeks only coloured further when Beorn pushed his hand away and wriggled one broad finger into his body. Beorn had the advantage of angle – and size – enough that he could find and reach the nub inside Bard, and rub over it to make Bard’s eyes cross. One finger then two, and then more oil before a third. Then he was told to put his hands and knees under him.

 

Bard felt the Man move up behind him. He expected a wide stretch and carefully leaned down to hide his anticipatory frown in the pillow, hands fisted. The blunt head of Beorn’s cock slid over his entrance and he groaned into the pillow; it already felt so much larger than it’d looked.

 

Beorn shuffled closer and there was only that big cock nudging inside. Bard could only push back as Beorn pushed forward until he was filled up all the way and could hardly breathe for the pleasure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had this image for this pairing, but it didn't fit too well: 
> 
> _Bard and Beorn on the floor (or bed) both panting and staring up at the ceiling  
>  and Bard just goes "Honey?"  
> and Beorn says, "Yes."_


	31. Desk Sex, Elrond/Bofur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Modern!AU
> 
> I think this was requested by an anon. Enjoy this last smutlet.

 

Surely having sex with your secretary was ludicrously cliché.

 

It helped a little that Bofur was the one bent over his table, but he still snickered to himself. He would’ve made a good secretary, given the way he’d often put his hair into two braids. To be honest, he wouldn’t exactly mind wearing those tight business-skirts. Tottering about in high heels would’ve just been unwise, though.

 

His secretary, who definitely did not (and did not need to) wear high heels, shifted his grip. “What’s so funny?”

 

“Just me thinking.” Bofur licked his lips, staying silent for a moment to savour the slipslide of that cock inside him. God he loved it. “Hey, how do you feel about skirts?”

 

He could almost feel Elrond’s frown, glad that puzzlement didn’t deter the steady rhythm of his hips. “I’m not going to wear one, if that’s what you’re intimating. It’d just make my job more difficult.”

 

“Job as in secretary-ing or fucking?”

 

“The latter. Or both, actually.”

 

“Oh. Anyway, I meant me. As in me in a skirt.”

 

Now Elrond slowed and stopped. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

 

“It was just – look, we can talk about it later,” he whined. “Fuck meeeee.”

 

“I’d prefer it if you were on your back. No, no,” Elrond said primly when Bofur started whining again, “this way you won’t come all over the carpet. No need to trouble the cleaning crew.”

 

“I’m supposed to be the boss here.” Bofur crankily moved so he was draped over the desk, only a little placated when Elrond filled him up again. He refused to admit that this position felt better, additionally allowing him to take in his attractive secretary, in his office attire with his trousers and pants around his ankles. He tugged Elrond’s tie. “Get down here and give us a kiss.”

 

Bent over like this Elrond could only roll his hips, so he compensated by fondling Bofur’s cock. He pushed Bofur’s shirt further off one shoulder with his other hand, then ghosted his fingers over collarbones. “Satisfied?” he asked, between one kiss and the next.

 

“Your hand’s on my cock – you can damn well tell that for yourself.”

 

Elrond chuckled at him. “Any more orders?” he asked, licking at the corner of Bofur’s mouth.

 

“Hold me legs apart and _fuck_ me like you mean it.” Bofur put his hand over Elrond’s for a moment, both working his cock. “I want to remember this every time I sit at this desk.”

 

“Is that so?” His eyes were dark as he straightened, swiftly spreading Bofur wide. “I’ll promise to make it memorable, then.” He pressed Bofur’s knees so they were almost touching the desk and thrust once, _hard_ , to make Bofur moan noisily. “Going to think of me and touch yourself when you come in tomorrow morning?”

 

“Well,” Bofur said, while he could still string words together, “either that or you could kneel underneath and suck me off.”

 

There should be upsides to a desk job, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaand that's a wrap!  
> Thanks for all the suggestions guys, for being patient despite this spilling over into November, and for taking the time to read =)


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